


Beautifully Broken

by Genysys



Category: Split (2016)
Genre: F/M, Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-17 13:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18099845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genysys/pseuds/Genysys
Summary: Grace finds herself in a rather odd situation with Kevin Wendell Crumb and his twenty-four personalities. Deemed Pure by The Beast, she finds herself with a strange, makeshift family that seems to want better for her than she imagined.She wouldn’t trade them for anything, either.





	1. Patricia

Grace bolts up like a bullet when she hears footsteps coming into the small basement. 

The trembling girl sits on the edge of the bed. She can hear the other three girls, Laura and Erin and Bethany, scrambling back into the corner of the room and Grace thinks she should follow suit, but she can’t will her battered body to move. 

They know he’s coming. 

Not even a moment later, the door is thrown open and the four girls are left staring at the man they’ve come to know as “Mr. Dennis.” He wasn’t fooled much with Grace- he usually takes the other girls and leaves her alone, for which she is truly grateful. For whatever reason, though, Grace feels her luck is about to run out. 

She doesn’t know what he does to the other girls, but they usually come back half-dressed and shaking. Twice now has Grace given up her clothes to the man who said she was dirty- her long sleeved shirt and her leggings. All she has left is her underwear, a thin long sleeved shirt, and her socks and all Grace can do is tremble all over at the thought of Dennis taking what she has left. 

Her nightmare becomes real when Dennis’ eyes lock on her, and Grace tries to scoot back when he grabs for her. 

She can’t talk, but boy does Grace scream. He picks her up like she’s a rag doll, throwing her skinny body over his shoulder and she reaches for one of the girls to take her hand. She kicks and hits Dennis, but he just lugs her from the basement area and slams the door, muffling the sound of the crying girls on the other side. 

He takes her into a concrete hall before setting her down. Grace stumbles as he does this, erratic sobs belting out of her trembling body. She tries to back away from Dennis, but he gives her a look of warning. 

“Stay there, and go no further,” he warns sternly, his finger pointing at her in a way reminiscent of a parent scolding their child. 

Grace stares at the ever-meticulous man. He’s dressed in his standard uniform of black slacks, grey dress shirt, and glasses. The look in his eye terrifies her and she struggles not to do anything that might anger the man further. 

She might be the first one not to come back. 

Dennis studies her up and down like she’s a piece of artwork. Then, his eyes pinpoint on her shirt and he shakes his head and extends his hand. “Give me your shirt. You have a stain.”

Grace shakes her head. “No.” Without her shirt, she’d be totally exposed in nothing except her underwear and a bra. He’d see her bruise and scar littered body, and she didn’t want anyone seeing that. 

“I said give me the shirt. It’s dirty.”

“I said no,” Grace says, wrapping her arms around herself as she backs away from Dennis who is becoming angry. “P-Please, I’m cold down here and I won’t have anything.”

Dennis doesn’t comply with her request, though. Grace nearly screeches as Dennis rushes at her, grasping the hem of Grace’s shirt and he practically shakes her. She shoves against the man, trying to protect the last literal and physical shred of her dignity. She doesn’t know what she’d if Dennis saw her bruised body...doesn’t know what the man would do when he saw something so broken. 

He’d probably kill her. No one loves broken things. 

Grace feels her shirt begin to rip at one of her shoulders. The fabric splits open, the cold basement air chilling her skin and Grace finally relents, knowing that Dennis will have his way, one way or another. 

“Okay! Here, you can have it,” Grace says, beginning to cry harder...if that were even possible. She struggles through hiccups and gasps and she feels herself become sick to her stomach and fears she’ll cry herself into being ill. She begins to lift her shirt up, her stomach exposed and dark, splotchy bruises are on display for the man to see. 

Dennis steps back, his frantic demeanor totally different. Wide blue eyes stare at her, and Grace frowns at the sudden change. Was he calm now that she was compliant? Grace lets her shirt fall, knowing that they caught sight of her battered torso, where her father beat her until her skin was shades of midnight blue and magenta. The beating served as a memory she’ll never escape the abuse no matter where she goes. Her father told her she was unloved and unwanted, and he wanted people to know it by obscuring her skin. 

Then, there’s a voice that doesn’t belong to Dennis. Grace watches as Dennis’ glasses are snatched from the bridge of his nose. The figure watching her is different...almost feminine. Grace tries to wrack her mind for who might the alter be- she knew Dennis and Hedwig, and mentions of the others.

The alter extends its hand, giving Grace a soft look. “Shhh. He’s gone: he’s gone, and won’t hurt you. My name is Patricia, and we will get through this.”

Grace stares at this new alter- Patricia. She sinks to the floor, fearing of what might become of her as she curls in around herself tightly. Her legs are pulled up to her chest to protect her abdomen and her hands shield her head and face and she just breaks. She shakes all over, afraid of this new personality and she can’t shake Dennis’ attack in her. She feels like she’s back at home, being used and abused by her father and her mother, who Grace saw as a stranger for she never was really around to save her. 

The alter- Patricia- kneels down next to Grace. The girl nearly screams when she feels long, nimble fingers rest on her back and Grace nearly bawls as she shakes so furiously. “He’s gone, dove. He won’t be back to hurt you- I’d never allow him to hurt you. Goodness, darling, you’re making yourself ill. You must breathe.” Patricia rubs Grace’s heaving back and hushes her lowly in an effort to calm the girl, muttering comforts that Grace tries to grasp onto. 

After fifteen minutes, Grace finally manages to control her breathing and silence her sobs. Her trembling body relaxes under Patricia’s touch, the woman alternating between rubbing her back and combing her fingers through Grace’s inky hair. 

Grace carefully pulls away from Patricia. She releases a chesty cough and reaches up to dry her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. Patricia gives a sad smile, reaching out to Grace to smooth back the tendrils of hair that have clung to her face. “There we are. Do you think you can answer some of my questions?”

She gives Patricia a wary look, but nods. “Y-Yes.” 

“First, may I ask your name?” 

“My name’s Grace,” Grace answers, her voice trembling. 

Patricia smiles at that. She watches as the woman gives her a soft look, clearly fond of the name. “You have a beautiful name. It means, ’God’s favor.’” She seems pleased to know the little tidbit of information and Grace watches her begin to formulate her next question. 

“Grace, tell me where the bruises came from.” Grace frowns and she furrows her brow. That wasn’t even a question- more like an outright demand or a statement. “You don’t have to be shy or ashamed. Did someone give you those bruises? Maybe there was an accident?”

Grace feels her lip wobble a little and her breathing is almost erratic. Her mind keeps flashing back to every time she can remember her father hitting her and kicking her and touching her in ways Grace couldn’t fathom. 

The trembling girl looks to Patricia. “No. No…”

“You have to tell me for this to work,” Patricia reminds gently. “You don’t have to go into detail. Will you just tell me what happened to you?”

Grace shakes her head. Then, she casts her gaze down in shame. “My father. He...he hit me.” How could someone let their father hit them? What was so wrong with someone that their parents hated them, and they hit them and hurt them?

Was Grace unloveable? 

Patricia makes a sound and she cups Grace’s tear-streaked face. “That’s all I needed to know.” She dries away Grace’s tears and releases her, offering a sad smile. “I want you to come upstairs with me. We need to get you warm and something to eat. I also think a shower is in order…”

“What about the other girls?” Grace never liked the girls in there- they all bullied her in school for being introverted and she didn’t have friends because of them. It didn’t matter to her, though. She tried to help them when Dennis took them away and even held one of them when he brought them back- held them through the sobs and the terror they felt when she was scared herself. 

“You’re not to worry about them. We just need to see that you’re taken care of. The Beast would be disappointed if we didn’t treat you nicely.” Patricia offers her hands to Grace, and all Grace can do is sit frozen in terror. The Beast. The little boy, Hedwig, told the girls stories about him. 

“He’s comin’. When he does, he’s comin’ for all of you,” Hedwig had said excitedly. 

“Are you going to let him have me? P-Please, don’t let him…” 

Patricia frowns. “How do you know about The Beast?”

“The little boy,” Grace starts, drying her eyes desperately. “He told us that he was coming. We thought he was talking about Dennis at first, then he started talking about him being a monster. Said he could climb walls and he’d tear us apart…”

Patricia sighs heavily. “I will talk to Hedwig about this later. The boy has a habit of telling tales and disclosing information he shouldn’t.”

“But is he coming for me? For the other girls?”

“He can’t come for you, because you’re pure,” Patricia explains simply. Grace frowns, wondering what pure means but she decides to leave it alone. She can’t take anymore emotional trauma today. “Now, enough of the chatter. Let’s get you upstairs.” Patricia extends her hand and Grace stares at the woman warily before taking her hand and she lets Patricia help her up. 

…

After a quick dinner and a shower, Grace sits in what must be Patricia’s room. 

The room is small, but seems comfortable and cozy nonetheless. The walls are a burgundy color and the bedsheets are the same deep shade of red as the walls. There’s a queen bed pushed up against the far wall, and a small desk against the other. Then, there’s a small dresser that holds various trinkets and other items. Grace can also see a door ajar that she believes to be a closet. 

Now, she sits at the woman’s vanity. Patricia is behind her, brushing out her damp hair with ease. The action makes Grace tired and she feels as though she could fall asleep sitting on the stool. Despite everything, she just wants rest. 

“You have the most beautiful hair. Have you ever cut it?” Her hair falls down to the middle of Grace’s back. She can never recall getting it cut growing up, save for the one time she herself cut it. Her father liked it long and would never allow her to cut it save for trimming off the dead ends. In order to get he man to think she was ugly and undesirable, she cut it all off after gathering it all up in a ponytail and chopped it off. 

He beat the hell out of her for it. 

Grace shakes her head. “No. He’d never allow me to.”

Patricia makes a sound. “Your father, I presume?”

“Yes. He preferred it long. He’d never let me wear it up or anything...said it flattered me.” Grace nearly vomits at the words and her body shudders. She feels Patricia squeeze her shoulder gently. 

“Easy, dove… No more talk of him for now,” Patricia says gently, continuing to brush Grace’s hair. Then, Grace watches her grab for a hair tie and she smiles gently. “May I braid your hair? If you keep the braid in overnight, you’ll have the most gorgeous waves in the morning.”

“Yeah.” Grace feels Patricia begin to braid her long locks, twisting them this way and that around her careful fingers. By the time she’s finished, Grace feels a little lighter and she reaches back to grab her hair that has been tamed into the braid and she smiles a little. She turns to Patricia and offers a smile. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

“Psshh; it’s just a braid. I only wish I had hair of my own to brush…”

Grace smiles her a sad look. “You’re still pretty without it. Maybe you can talk the others into growing it out.”

“Perhaps,” Patricia says warmly. “Now, why don’t you get some sleep? You can take my bed for the night and I’ll make accommodations in another room.”

Grace shakes her head. “You don’t have to. I can sleep on the couch or something. There’s no reason you should not sleep here…” She gulps back guilt and discomfort, hoping that she could change the woman’s mind. She wouldn’t be comfortable making the woman bunking somewhere else besides her own bed. No one ever gave up things for her, and Grace wasn’t going to start letting someone do it for her now. 

Patricia shakes her head, walking to her bed. She pulls the covers back, patting the mattress and motions for Grace. “Come now. You’ll rest better in a bed.”

Grace comes and doesn’t protest against Patricia anymore. She lets the woman tuck her in and Grace tries not to flinch at her touch. The last time Grace was in anyone’s bed, it was in bed and her father’s uncomfortable weight was on top of her. 

She pushes the feelings of disgust far away, trying to tell herself that she isn’t home anymore. Grace squeezes her eyes closed and releases a trembling breath, trying to get comfortable in her surroundings. 

“There we are. You sleep well, dear, and I won’t be far should you need me,” Patricia promises, squeezing Grace’s hands. 

Grace mumbles an incoherent ‘Thank you,’ as she begins to doze. She feels Patricia smoothe her hair and squeeze her shoulder, leaving the room and Grace falls headfirst into sleep soon after, going to a place where even dreams can’t touch her. 

…

Before she knows it, she’s with Kevin and his personalities for nearly two weeks as a guest, and not a prisoner. 

Anyone would say the situation is horrible, and that she needed to leave soon as she was able to, but Grace’s home situation was dire and she actually found herself liking Patricia’s company. Yes, she will always having the guilt of what might, and will, happen to those girls but she knows it’s not truly anyone’s doing. Even though she begged and pleaded for them to be let go- she begged to the point Patricia had silenced her and Grace rattled around her in fear for the better part of two days- she knew that it wasn’t the others’ faults. 

As horrid as the situation is and due to Grace’s odd circumstances and her strange tie to Patricia, she can’t leave. 

She doesn’t see anyone else except for brief flashes. It’s mostly at night when Grace is up due to nightmares or she’s simply just scared to fall asleep. She’ll listen to the screeching laughter of a child, the muttering of a man on a mission to make a fashion statement, and a teenage girl tearing the house apart trying to find her ‘damn insulin syringes.’

There are others she doesn’t remember yet, but she’s heard them milling about the house and has kept quiet under the knowledge of, “Grace is sleeping, so you hooligans keep quiet.”

Grace silently helps Patricia cook themselves breakfast. The two have found a comfortable presence in each other, and are nearly around each other all day. Patricia has let Grace begin to help with small chores around the house at the girl’s insistence. Grace washes dishes and folds laundry, but she can hardly lift stuff and move like she needs because she’s still so beaten up and weak. 

“Where did you learn to cook, Grace? My cooking skills are very...subpar.” Patricia looks to Grace and the teenager cuts her eyes to the woman, watches as she attempts to fry bacon but doesn’t seem to be having success. “Now you see why I only make sandwiches. You’re going to wither away to nothing before much longer…”

Grace rolls her eyes. “Your cooking is fine, Miss Patricia.” She grins and reaches across the woman, carefully turning the heat up on the stove. “My mom taught me how to cook. We didn’t spend much time together… She was always out and about, but when she did spend time with me, it was teaching me to cook. It was my safe place.”

“It’s such a shame it’s the only time you two got. There’s so much a mother should teach a child,” Patricia says gently. 

Grace bites her lower lip when she feels an onslaught of tears. She wishes her mother had taught her more...had done more. She wishes her mother had protected her instead of letting her father hurt her. She wishes that she had been brave enough to tell her mother she loved her before she left, too. She wishes her mother loved her like she loved her brothers and sisters. 

Grace hurriedly drags a hand over her eyes, struggling to breathe around the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry. Just...just give me a second.” Then, before she can stop herself, Grace feels a broken sob belt out of her and they don’t stop. Tears blur her vision and Grace just cries, unable to do anything but just stand there until she feels Patricia pull her away from the stove, pulling the skinny girl into her arms. 

Grace doesn’t shy away from Patricia, letting the woman tuck her head beneath her chin and Grace cries into her cardigan, letting herself be comforted for the first time in her short, miserable life by someone who actually seems to care. 

She might cry for just a few more minutes before she has the strength to pull away. Patricia cradles her face, drying tears away carefully and Grace sniffles. “Oh, sweet girl… I’m sorry you feel this way, child.”

“It’s not your fault.” Grace sniffs, releasing a trembling breathe and she looks to Patricia with puffy, watery eyes. “I’m sorry I cried on you… I ruined your shirt.”

“Nonsense,” Patricia dismisses. “It’s just a shirt, and never apologize for crying. You’re allowed to hurt- to miss your mother. I know I’ll never take her place, but you can come to me for anything.”

Grace nods. “Thank you, Miss Patricia.”

Patricia squeezes her shoulders and drops a kiss on Grace’s forehead. “Don’t thank me, darling. Now, why don’t you go wash your face and I’ll finish breakfast?”

“You sure?” Grace asks shakily. 

“Positive,” Patricia hums and guides Grace towards the hallway. “When you get back you can help me set the table if you’d like to help.” Grace does as she says, washing her face of the tear tracks and she stands in the bathroom for a while, trying to convince herself that she’s truly worthy of love and affection and comfort.

Maybe, just maybe, she has someone who finally loves her for what she is. 

Beautifully broken...


	2. Hedwig

_ Miss Patricia, you don’t have to keep letting me sleep in here.” _

Grace watches as Patricia turns down the blankets on the bed, frowning worriedly as the woman fluffs the pillows and turns towards her expectedly. She rocks on her feet and wrings her hands- nervous habits Patricia was trying to help her break, but they haven’t made true progress yet. 

Patricia shakes her head. “It’s until we can pull a room together for you, dear. I can better keep an eye on you here, anyhow.” Grace frowns, knowing it’s because of all the nightmares she’s had the last two weeks. They usually consist of Dennis stripping her bare or her father’s wandering hands, and she wakes up screaming only for Patricia to be forced into the Light to hold her until she calmed down, taking gulping breaths after the screeching stopped. 

“Come on. To bed with you, Grace,” Patricia beckons, smiling a careful smile and Grace complies, shifting her too skinny body into the bed and pulls the fluffy red comforter over her body. She feels the bed sink in with Patricia’s weight and she offers a small smile to her. The last month Grace has been with Patricia, the woman has proved to be some sort of mother figure to her. Patricia cooks with her, reads with her, talks to her. She helps her with her hair and soothes her when she has nightmares and sits with Grace until she can finally fall asleep. 

She’s the mother Grace wanted in her own. 

Patricia smooths Grace’s dark curls. “Rest easy, darling. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you in the morning,” Grace says softly. 

Patricia cups Grace’s cheek a moment before smiling gently. Then, she whispers a soft,  _ “Goodnight,”  _ before suspending the room into darkness and Grace is left to sleep, dozing off into a much needed sleep and darkness swallows the girl whole.

…

_ “H-Hey? Mith Grace? You’re screamin’ real loud… Do I need to go get Mith Patricia?” _

Grace wakes up with a start, sweat making her skin cold and sticky. Her breathing is rapid and she can hear the slight wheeze in her breath as she scrambles out of bed and pitches her body clear across the room. She feels phantom hands moving across her body and her body is a writhing agony, and she feels as though the air is being taken from her lungs.

She squints her eyes when a lamp is flickered on, lighting the room up and Grace blinks a few times to look over to the timid form of a shaking Hedwig.

Hedwig lets out a small whimper. “Mith Grace? Do I need to leave?”

Grace shakes her head. “N-No. You don’t gotta go, honey.” She takes in long, shaky breaths and looks to Hedwig. “I just had a bad dream. It’s okay.” She wipes her eyes and looks to the trembling boy. Normally, anyone who would have saw Hedwig and were told he was nine would have laughed. They would have laughed at the mere thought of being told that other personalities shared this body, but they’re wrong. 

Not one personality could imitate a child and their actions. None of them could replicate Hedwig’s personality and his demeanor.

No one could act as scared as he is right now.

Grace staggers to her feet and releases a shuddering breath. She sniffles and looks to Hedwig who looks bent between staying with Grace and making a run for it.

“Did you hath a bad dream about us?” Hedwig’s voice sounds remorseful, and Grace thinks back to nearly a month ago when Hedwig told Grace and all the girls that the Beast was coming for them. She knows that Patricia scolded the boy for it and he was too scared to come to Grace for a while, it seems.

Grace gives him a sad look. “No, I didn’t. I...I had a bad dream about monsters.” It was the most simple way to put it into terms for the boy. She didn’t want to tell Hedwig about her father- the boy is too young...too innocent to know about those kinds of monsters. “C’mere; you can sit down on the bed if you want.”

Hedwig nods and throws his body onto the bed. The bed groans at his sudden weight and Grace chuckles weakly. Grace sits down with him, giving the boy a soft look. “How come you’re up so late, Hedwig? Did I wake you?”

“No. I was already awake,” Hedwig explains carefully. “I tried watchin’ a scary movie. Mither Dennis doesn’t like me to watch ‘em… I was scared and then I heard you screamin’. I thought tha’ monsters were gettin’ you, too.”

Grace shakes her head. “It was just a bad dream. As for you, though- why were you watching a scary movie?”

“Jade watches ‘em, and she’s, like, fifteen! She’s still a kid!” Hedwig explains, crossing his arms and his lower lip juts out in a pour. Grace gives him a serious look and she watches as he slumps against the pillows and he groans. “I just wanted to watch ‘em like all the grown-ups do. I’m tired of bein’ little all tha’ time.”

Grace frowns at that. Hedwig is perpetually stuck at age nine and never to grow any older. She knows it’s frustrating for him to stay this way and he wants to try stuff to seem more grown-up. Then, she smiles at the little boy. “Being little isn’t so bad. Besides...I’m nearly twenty and I still don’t watch scary movies. They scare me real bad.”

“Really?” Hedwig peeks up at her and Grace only nods.

“Really,” Grace says softly. “It’s awesome to know that you’re always gonna be little. Seeing the world through a child’s eyes is something amazing. They  _ always  _ see the truth and joy about everything. They always know how to read a person.”

Hedwig sniffles a little. “It just sucks. No one takes me seriously… They don’t like me.” He sits up, crossing his legs carefully as he stares at Grace with wide eyes. 

“I like you, and Mr. Dennis and Miss Patricia likes you,” Grace explains gently. “I grew up with a few younger brothers. You’re no different.”

“Even after what I did? I made you cry,” Hedwig says nervously. 

“I was never mad, Hedwig. You just scared me a little, but I made it out okay.” Grace smiles carefully for Hedwig and she feels the boy shift about on the bed. He moves his body so he’s sitting next to Grace and she feels him lean into her. She winds an arm around him, rubbing her hand over his bald head. “I don’t hate you or anything, okay?”

Hedwig nods against her shoulder. “Thank you, Mith Grace.”

“You don’t have to call me that, either. Just call me Grace.”

“Can I call you Gracie?”

“That’s fine, too.” Grace laughs as Hedwig smiles a brilliant smile and gives a small “whoop.” She laughs softly and she feels Hedwig pull away from her. She studies the boy’s features and notes the dark bags beneath his eyes and she knows he’s been fighting sleep. “You should go to sleep. You’re tired.”

Hedwig pales. “N-No! You can’t leave me by myself!”

“What kind of movie did you watch, Hedwig?”

“The Conjuring.”

“Well, I can see why you don’t want to stay by yourself. That movie scared the devil out of me! You want me to walk you back to your room and stay while you fall asleep, or do you want to stay with me?” She has her answer as Hedwig vaults himself onto the mattress, burrowing under the blankets and she realizes that she’s going to be spending the night with a very cuddly nine year old Hedwig.

Grace settles next to the little boy and he curls into her side. She can’t help but laugh when he throws a heavy arm over her stomach, head on her shoulder.

Hedwig makes a sound. “Promith you’ll stay, Gracie?”

“‘Course I’ll stay, honey,” Grace says gently. “Go to sleep and I’ll be here if you wake up.”

…

_ When she wakes up, she’s tangled up with Hedwig’s body.  _

Grace picks her head up sleeping, afraid to move much lest she startle him awake. He’s rolled over onto his stomach, arm still around her waist and the other is tangled up in her hair. His head rests on her shoulder, mouth open as he snores lightly and Grace just chuckles gently and strokes his bald head, feeling him shift beneath her touch. 

A few moments later, blue eyes are staring up at her and Grace wonders who she is being met with. Then, she hears a slight British accent and Grace feels her face burn in embarrassment. 

“I see you’ve found yourself a bed buddy?” Patricia asks, laughing in delight at Grace’s obvious discomfort. She untangles herself from Grace sleepily and sits up in bed. “Oh, don’t worry yourself, Grace. Hedwig was thrilled to have stayed with you and I’m glad you let him.”

Grace smiles a little. “He was a joy. I didn’t wanna leave him by himself- I freaked him out from the nightmares. He watched a scary movie, too, and it tripped him out a little.”

Patricia makes a sound. “I’m going to have a talk with him about watching those things...and with Jade because she leaves them out and about for him to see.” Grace laughs weakly, but she knows Patricia sees all the younger alters as her children. Hell, Patricia treats Grace like she’s her own child.

“Well, darling, we have slept in quite a bit. Do you want to help start breakfast with me?” Patricia offers. “I was thinking pancakes…”

Grace nods. “That’s fine. Do you mind if I go to the bathroom just a second?”

“You take your time…” She’s cut off abruptly and Grace watches as Hedwig takes over, the nine-year-old rushing out of the room and down the hall. 

_ “Yeth! Mith Patricia is gonna make pancakes!” _

“Hedwig! You do not run inside the house!”

_ “C’mon, Mith Patricia. You  _ **_suck_ ** .”

…

_ Grace sits in the floor of Hedwig’s room, coloring in a carefully drawn cartoon character with a vibrant shade of red.  _

After a late breakfast, Grace was all but dragged to Hedwig’s room where they played; she taught him Uno, she told him stories, and Hedwig had pulled out quite the impressive set of crayons, construction paper, and coloring books for them to use to draw. 

“Who are you drawin’, Gracie?” Hedwig dramatically leans over Grace’s drawing, squinting his eyes. 

Grace shrugs. “I don’t know quite yet. Who are you drawing, Hedwig?” She looks to the boy’s paper where he is scribbling furiously, brow furrowed in concentration. 

“I’m drawin’ everyone! See, look! I’m drawin’ Mith Patricia, and Mither Dennis; this guy right here is Barry, and the other one is Luke. Then there’s Mither Pritchard, but he’s a weirdo; there’s Jade, an’ Bernice and Ian and Mary. I think those two are Felicia and Rakel. Then that goofy lookin’ man is Ansel,” Hedwig rambles, giggling wildly and points out different people. “Oh! I drew B.T and Kat and Orwell!”

Grace giggles at his descriptions of the other personalities, unable to help herself as she smiles at him. “I’m sure they’re all nice.”

Hedwig wrinkles his nose. “Not all of them. Luke’s got a big mouth and Jade likes to pick on me. Then Mr. Pritchard and Orwell are total  _ nerds _ , cause all they talk about is history. And Ian and Mary scare me a lot…”

“I’m sorry,” Grace says sadly. 

“It’s just because I’m little.” Hedwig looks up to Grace and smiles sadly. “Barry and Mith Patricia are real nice, and Mither Dennis helps me sometimes. Plus you’re here, so I guess it’s okay.”

Grace smiles softly. “You’re a wonderful little boy, Hedwig. Don’t let them make you feel bad.”

Hedwig nods slowly and his blue hues snap to Grace. He gives her a serious look- or as serious as a nine-year-old can manage. “Gracie, did someone hurt you?”

“Why do you ask that, honey?”

“Well, Mith Patricia says I gotta be careful with you. Last night, when you got scared, I saw bruises on your stomach,” Hedwig explains, sounding worried. “Did you get hurt before you came here?”

Grace sighs. “Someone I loved was hurting me.”

Hedwig frowns. “Doesn’t sound like they loved you much.”

“They didn’t. My dad...he wasn’t a good man,” Grace says quietly. “That’s why I stay here- so I don’t get hurt anymore.”

“‘Sides, he can’t get to you anyway. I’m here to protect you. Mith Patricia says I’m tha’ man of tha’ house, and I gotta protect you.” He smiles proudly and Grace smiles back, reaching out to squeeze the boy’s hand. “People aren’t supposed to hurt the people they love.”

Grace nods. “That’s right- they’re not. You’re well on your way to becoming a little man, but you gotta stay little a while longer. My dad would hurt you.” Then, a serious look crosses her face and she looks to Hedwig. “Hedwig, I want you to promise me something.”

“Yeah?”

“If anyone ever hurts you, or makes you feel uncomfortable, you tell an adult,” Grace says. She wishes she had been able to confide in someone as a child so she would have been spared the horrors of her father. “Tell me or Mr. Dennis or Miss Patricia. Okay?”

Hedwig nods quickly. “I promith, Gracie.”

“Good.”

“You gotta tell someone about you gettin’ hurt, too,” Hedwig counters. “Mith Patricia likes you a lot. She doesn’t want you to get hurt. Mither Dennis likes you, too.”

Grace shudders at the mention of Dennis. However, she complies with the boy. “I will, Hedwig.” 

They continue to color in silence a while when Hedwig extends a picture to Grace. She smiles and takes the paper from him, looking at the sketch. At the very top, in crude writing, is “My Family” and Grace looks at the picture. There are four people on the paper- the first being Dennis with his square glasses and grey attire; the next is Patricia in a flowing pink dress; after her is Hedwig who is wearing a vibrant shade of yellow and red; last is a carefully drawn figure with black squiggles for hair and a red dress and Grace laughs when she realizes it’s her. 

“You like it?” Hedwig asks worriedly. 

“Like it? I  _ love  _ it, honey.” Grace can’t help but to smile and she tears up a little. For the first time in forever, she has a  _ family.  _ Her own little messed up family where nothing makes sense, but she loves it. 

Her family is broken, but good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a few days to get this up! I’m still working out some kinks and getting used to the website! Hope y’all enjoyed and hope I’ll see you guys for upcoming chapters!


	3. Barry

_She’s_ _with_ _Patricia_ _and_ _Hedwig_ _at_ _least_ _two_ _months_ _before_ _she_ _meets_ _Barry_.

Grace had listened intently when Patricia told her about the other personalities. She told her about Luke, Norma, Orwell, Mr. Pritchard, Samuel, Jade, Ian and Mary Reynolds, and a slew of others that made Grace’s head spin. There’s one personality in particular, though, that Grace took immediate interest in. _Barry_.

From what she heard from Patricia, Barry was quite amicable and she believed they’d be best friends right away. Grace wasn’t sure- she was shy as a mouse and Barry sounded absolutely out there. He loved fashion and would probably set fire to Grace’s wardrobe if he ever got into The Light. Even though Grace is absolutely horrified to meet him, she’s also excited to someday meet the man.

Maybe she can have a friend. Even though Grace had Hedwig and Patricia, having someone who seemed to be at least a _little_ closer to Grace’s age seemed to be nice. Patricia is on all accounts a mother-type figure and Hedwig is Grace’s little brother at this point.

Now, Grace sits with Hedwig in his room, sprawled out over his bed as watches the boy run around. “Yes, Hedwig, you’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Why? C’mon, Gracie, I wanna stay up with _you_. Grownups do all the fun stuff at night,” Hedwig whines tiredly. He slumps into the floor on his beanbag dramatically, looking up at Grace through heavy eyelids. Grace can’t help but to think he looks adorable- especially in the Minions onesie she may have picked up at Target for him...

Grace lifts an eyebrow. “I’m going to bed, too. It’s late, and me and Miss Patricia has been up since daylight. Besides, eleven o’clock isn’t an acceptable bedtime for little boys. Sooo…. _bed_.”

Hedwig glares. “You’re _lyin_ ’.”  

“I am not. Come on; I’ll read you a book and I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” Grace says softly. She smiles at the little boy, hoping to be able to get him to sleep. All of the personalities had long days, and if Kevin’s body doesn’t get adequate rest, they’re all sluggish and tired.

It takes a miracle, though, to get Hedwig to settle down for the night.

Hedwig huffs, moving his body about. Grace swears she sees the boy’s eyes roll into the back of his head so far he could see his spine. He throws his body onto the bed, settling next to Grace and he curls around her. Grace erupts into laughter as he plops down between her legs, placing his head on her chest while he wrestles with the blanket.

“Don’t you think you’re too big for this, Hedwig?” Grace asks, still laughing.

Hedwig shakes his head. “ _No_. I’m still little, ya’ know.”

“Fine. So, what kind of story do you wanna hear? Are we gonna read some Dr. Seuss, or am I making up something?” Grace adjusts the blanket over the two of them, stroking the fine hair forming on Hedwig’s bald head.

Hedwig hums in thought, then looks back to Grace. “Tell me a Bible story like the other night! Mith Patricia tells them, but she doesn’t make them as cool.”

Grace nods carefully, mulling over which stories she still has in her ranks. She told him the story of Creation, David and Goliath, Noah’s Ark, and the story of Sampson… Then, she grins widely and looks down to Hedwig. “Do you want to hear about the guy who got eaten by a _whale_?”

“ _Nuh_ - _uh_! Did he really get eaten by a whale?” Hedwig asks skeptically, smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

“Yes, Jonah did get eaten by a whale. If you wanna hear, lay back and listen,” Grace says softly, and she feels Hedwig’s weight grow heavy against her and she throws herself into her story. “The story starts out in Israel, with a man named Jonah. God called on him to be a prophet and carry out his messages and works, but he ran from God…”

Hedwig asks several questions during the telling of the story, but soon he begins to wear down. By the end of the story, his face is hidden in Grace’s neck and she’s half asleep, too. She rubs his back to sooth him on off to sleep, listening to his breathing deepen with each passing minute.

Hedwig sighs tiredly. “‘Night, Gracie.”

“Goodnight, Hedwig. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says softly.

Hedwig hums. “Love you.”

“I love you, too, squirt.”

…

“ _What_ _the_ _freaking_ _hell_? _First_ _they_ _freaking_ _tell_ _me_ _about_ _some_ _Beast_ \- _and_ _that’s_ _bad_ _enough_. _The_ _person_ , _though_ , _that_ _put_ _me_ _in_ _this_ _God_ _forsaken_ , _unfashionable_ _piece_ _of_ _clothing_ \- _I’m_ _burning_ _them_ _and_ _this_ _onesie_ _at_ _the_ _damn_ _stake_!”

Grace rockets up at the sound of screaming, her heart hammering in her chest. She’s still skittish about people screaming and loud noises, but she can’t help but to feel amused by the ruckus that this person is making. She swings her feet over the bed, leaving Hedwig’s room to find the hallway light on and she squints tiredly to see a half naked man parading out in the middle of the hall, the Minions onesie abandoned.

She covers her mouth to keep from laughing, watching as the man rants. Then, not a moment later, blue eyes lock onto her and they just stare. They blink, lift their hands up to rub their eyes, and then blink again as they stare at her.

“So, like, you’re real?”

Grace lifts an eyebrow. “Looks who’s talking. I’ve never had a grown man parade around the house on me in his boxers because his clothes go against fashion and, apparently, God.”

“Were you the one that bought that suit from hell?”

“I bought it for Hedwig,” Grace supplies, her face red and she’s struggling not to laugh. The situation is definitely surreal for her and she’s more amused than uncomfortable.

He frowns deeply. “We’re different people, but we share the same body. And whatever is put on this body will be fashionable.”

Grace chuckles and looks to the man. “Hi, I’m Grace.”

Then, she watches the man smile a bright, delighted smile. “Nice to meet you, babygirl. I’m Barry.”

“Miss Patricia told me about you. She said you were nice,” Grace says gently, and she watches Barry’s smile fall. “She’s been with me since I got here. I, uh, kind of live here. Have been for almost two months.”

Barry gives her a dark look. He steps closer, looking Grace over in what she believes is worry...maybe terror. “They haven’t hurt you, have they? I mean...Hedwig can’t do much harm, but what about Patricia and Dennis?” He inspects her for obvious injury, thumbs ghosting over the dark circles beneath her eyes from nights of no sleep, believing them to be bruises. He feels along her cheekbones and jaws for breaks or fractures.

“Patricia saved me from them.”

“Who, honey?” Barry drops his hands and Grace knows she has surprised him.

“Dennis and the Beast. Dennis...he tried to take my clothes. T-Then I heard about the Beast,” Grace breathes out. “He…I never got to see him. They told me I was pure, but something bad happened to the other girls.” 

Barry gives her a sad look. “Oh, baby…I’m so sorry.”

“Patricia and Hedwig have been good to me, though,” Grace says shakily. She smiles softly and Barry gives her shoulders a careful squeeze. “Patricia takes care of me. She’s like a mom, and Hedwig’s like my brother. I really love them.”

“Just as long as they treat you good,” Barry says, smiling a small smile. “If they don’t, I’ll take care of them.”

Grace rolls her eyes and then looks to Barry. “So, it is indeed three in the morning, and I’d love to go back to sleep. There’s just one little problem.”

“What would that be?”

“There’s a naked man in my hallway. Do you have clothes here, or do we have to sneak something from Dennis?” Grace asks, her smile growing when Barry’s face morphs into something of horror.

“I know you did not just suggest that I wear Dennis’ clothes. Let me tell you something- that man has had all sorts of shit happen to him, but he’s got a stick so far up his ass it’s _pitiful_. He just wears...grey. Like, who likes the color grey?” Barry rambles, crossing his arms over his chest as he fusses over Grace’s clothing recommendations. “I do have clothes here. They’re probably out of style, but I do have clothes.”

Grace laughs at him, and she watches him give her a look of mock anger and she giggles harder. Barry just smiles and smoothes a hand over her hair, cupping her cheek after.

“I think we’re gonna get along great, babygirl.”

…

_Almost_ _a_ _month_ _passes_ _as_ _she_ _get_ _to_ _know_ _Barry_ _and_ _all_ _the_ _other_ _personalities_.

Grace spends quite a significant amount of time with all of them. She spends a large chunk of her morning with Patricia, the afternoons and some of the evening with Hedwig, and she spends her nights with Barry. She has a routine with them all now, it seems. Her and Patricia will read and make breakfast together, and Patricia does her hair while they talk quietly; her afternoons with Hedwig are usually spent with drawing and watching cartoons and telling the boy stories; her nights with Barry, though, are a little unpredictable.

Some nights they sit up talking until he kisses her goodnight; others, they spend it curled up on the couch to watch TV; sometimes, inspiration will strike Barry and Grace is suddenly used as a live model as he sketches her out, both of them shrieking with laughter.

Tonight, she finds herself in Barry’s room, curled up with the man in his bed while they chatter idly. They don’t lay close enough to touch, but she can feel his warmth and his breath tickles her skin as they talk.

“Will you tell me something, baby?”

Grace hums, smiling softly to Barry. “What would that be?” She rolls to her side to face him, her arm cradling her head as she looks to the man. His torso is bare, and all he has on is a pair of plain black pajama bottoms. Grace grins when she remembers bringing him Hedwig’s onesie to wear as a joke when he asked for pajamas and how Barry had all but ripped the garment from her hands and chucked it back into Hedwig’s room with a ferocity she has never seen before.

“How come you’re staying with us?” Barry looks to her with confusion written across his features. She frowns deeply, searching his face as she moves closer to him.

Grace shakes her head. “Why do you ask that?”

“Just...no one has stayed before. Besides, we’ve literally gave you every reason not to stay. It’s not everyday that a girl decides to stay with the man that tried to sacrifice her to some monster,” Barry says, sighing heavily. Grace can see he looks depressed about this. His endless baby blues are brimming with unshed tears and she feels her breathing hitch a little. 

“I’m staying because I love every single one of you I’ve met,” Grace answers honestly. She gives Barry a small smile, reaching out to take his hand. “I’ve never had anyone on my side before. Sure, I was scared at first, but I let myself get comfortable with Patricia. I let myself get comfortable with Hedwig. Sometimes I get scared about their faith in the Beast...worry he’ll come after me. I get so sick about it Patricia has to hold me until I can stop panicking. They won’t hurt me.” Then, she pauses and rubs her hand over Barry’s head, his fine hair tickling her fingers. “Then I met you. Hedwig and Patricia...they’re different from you. I can’t confide in them like I can you. Patricia is pretty much a mom and Hedwig is that loud-mouthed little brother you wanna strangle sometimes. 

She listens as Barry chuckles, taking her hand and he kisses her palm. “We can get pretty annoying, Gracie.”

“Shush, I’m not finished yet,” Grace scowls teasingly. Then, she smiles at Barry. “I’ve never had a best friend until I met you. I’ve never let myself get close enough to someone to be this comfortable.” She feels her body tremble at the thought of her father and his exploring hands, and she looks to Barry with shy eyes. “I’ve never laid so close to a man who just wanted me for me. You don’t hurt me; don’t make me feel bad… Last time I was in bed with a man, he made me do stuff I didn’t wanna do. You’re not like that.”

Barry gives her a watery smile. Then, he releases a shaky breath. “I just wanna know _why_ you want to stay.”

Grace smiles. “Because I love you. I love all of you.”

Barry smiles back. He draws Grace close, tucking her against his body. Grace feels her heart hammer at his touch and her nerves are on fire. He presses a long kiss against her forehead and Grace melts into his touch.

“I love you, too, Gracie.” She feels his tears soaking into her hair and she feels awful for him. She didn’t realize how hurt and lonely this man was. Under flamboyant clothing, contagious laughter, and bright smiles, Barry was a broken man. “God, I love you so much.”

Grace holds Barry for a while, letting him cry against her. She traces the scars over his chest, wondering what horrors he faced during his life. According to stories from Patricia, Barry and Dennis were advocates for Kevin when he was in need of something during his childhood. Barry was there to help him make friends and in school and Dennis was there as his defense. There were times, though, Barry took the brunt of the abuse.

She wonders what all of them have been through to suffer. 

Barry pulls back, red faced and eyes swollen. Grace reaches towards him, wiping away his tears and she offers a small smile. “No more crying, okay? You’re stuck with me forever.”

Barry snickers. “Thank you, Gracie.”

“Anytime,” Grace says, winking playfully and she shrieks in delight when she feels Barry bring his hands to his ribcage and he tickles her. “Barry! Stop it!” She scrambles away from him only for him to wrap a strong arm around her tiny waist and pulls her back to him, tickling her ribs and sides and stomach, their laughs filling the air. 

When he releases her, Grace is struggling to catch her breath and she giggles wildly, sprawled out over Barry’s lap where he had her trapped. “That’s mean. You know that I can’t fight you off.”

Barry grins coyly. “You know you love it.”

Grace chuckles. “I do. Now, I think I’m going to go to bed as it is nearly three in the morning and Patricia likes an early start.”

Barry huffs like a toddler. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, babygirl.”

Grace gives him a slight smile. Then, a wild thought crossed her mind and her eyes flicked to Barry. She doesn’t want to be alone tonight and she doesn’t want to leave Barry alone, either. The thought of leaving him alone is unbearable, but the thought of sleeping in the bed with a man scares her a little. 

She decides to be brave, though.

Grace moves to slip beneath the covers of Barry’s bed, unable to stop from laughing at the look crossing his face. “Honey, what are you doing?”

“I don’t want to be alone and I know you don’t, either,” Grace says plainly, shrugging as she stares at Barry. She watches as Barry smiles widely and she smiles back. “I’m a good bed buddy. Hedwig crawls into bed with me all the time and I’ve never heard him complain.”

Barry gives her a look. “You never fail to amaze me, Gracie.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. C’mon and lay down. You look exhausted.” Grace beckons him closer and lifts the blankets, and Barry settles next to her almost immediately. She watches him reach to turn off the lamp, making the room pitch black and all she can hear is Barry’s soft breathing.

They don’t touch, and Grace is completely content to just lay with him. She curls on her side, enjoying Barry’s warmth and she begins to doze until she feels Barry pull the blanket up and over her shoulders, kissing her head. 

“Night’, Barry,” Grace says gently.

“ _Goodnight_ , _baby_.”

 


	4. Mary and Ian

Four months into staying with Kevin and his several alters, it’s evident that Grace is starting to show signs of PTSD.

It would amount up to small things at first. She’d have the jitters all day and Hedwig, Patricia, and Barry would have to ask permission to touch her. She’d start off with nervous tics and get upset when something went wrong, almost making herself hysterical until Barry or Patricia would calm her down. Then, it escalated into bouts of anger and nightmares so bad Grace was inconsolable when she’d wake, afraid for anyone to touch her. She’d get flashbacks in the kitchen or the shower or in bed, and all she could do was scream until they finally stopped and Patricia would rock her because she was so afraid of Barry touching her.

It’s been three weeks since the episodes started, and Grace is miserable. She always finds herself anxious and depressed, and she has a short fuse with Patricia and Barry and Hedwig due to her irritability and is constantly apologizing to them for it. She’s lost all motivations to do anything- hardly gets up to eat unless she’s made to; doesn’t speak; doesn’t laugh. All she can do is lie there, drowning in the depression and anxiety while the others beg her to do something...anything.

“I’m sorry, Miss Patricia. Just...I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just want it to stop. Make it stop,” Grace had begged one night between gasping sobs as she cried into Patricia’s shoulder.

Now, she lies in bed, waking up from a nap that Barry convinced her to take because she didn’t sleep last night. She listens as the alters bicker back and forth with one another, and she knows that it’s about her.

“ _She_ _needs_ _a_ _friend_.” Patricia states it as a fact rather than an idea, and Grace frowns.

Barry makes a sound of hurt. “ _I_ _am_ _her_ _friend_.”

“ _I_ _mean_ _her_ _age_ , _Barry_. _I’d_ _have_ _her_ _meet_ _Jade_ , _but_ _I_ _hardly_ _think_ _she’s_ _ready_ _to_ _meet_ _Jade_ _with_ _the_ _state_ _she’s_ _in_ _at_ _the_ _moment_.”

Hedwig makes an excited voice and Grace hears him jump up and down. “ _What_ _about_ _Ian_ _and_ _Mary_? _Sure_ , _they’re_ _mean_ _to_ _me_ , _Etcetera_.”

“ _I_ _don’t_ _think_ _she’s_ _ready_ _to_ _meet_ _another_ _man_ , _Hedwig_. _Besides_... _Mary_ _is_ _kind_ _of_ _a_ _handful_.”

“ _Maybe_ _we_ _can_ _drag_ _Luke_ _out_? _He’s_ _got_ _a_ _loud_ _mouth_ _and_ _all_ , _but_ _I_ _think_ _he_ _could_ _be_ _what_ _Grace_ _needs_ _to_ _kick_ _this_ _funk_ _she’s_ _in,_ ” Barry suggests, his voice strained to the point Grace thinks he could cry. She wants to cry, too, knowing that they’re so scared for her and she wishes she could make this go away.

Patricia shoots the idea down immediately. “ _No_ , _no_ , _no_! _Ian_ _and_ _Mary_ _are_ _perfect_ _for_ _the_ _job_ _description_. _All_ _we_ _can_ _count_ _on_ _Luke_ _for_ _right_ _now_ _is_ _flirting_ _and_ _scaring_ _Grace_ _out_ _of_ _her_ _wits_.”

“ _So_ _Mary_ _and_ _Ian_ _it_ _is_ ,” Barry says with finality, his voice defeated. “ _I’m_ _going_ _to_ _go_ _get_ _Grace_. _I_ _thought_ _I_ _heard_ _her_ _moving_ _around_ … _She_ _needs_ _to_ _eat_ _something_ _since_ _she_ _slept_ _through_ _breakfast_ _this_ _morning_.”

Hedwig and Patricia speak together in the same breath, the same sentence. “ _Tell_ _her_ _we_ _love_ _her_.”

Not missing a beat, Grace can hear Barry walking from the next room over. She lies still as the door opens and she looks up to Barry, her breath hitching not a moment later and tears well up in her eyes and roll down her cheeks as her anxiety flares.

Barry gives her a worried look. “Hey… Baby, what’s the matter?” He reaches out to her, his fingers combing through her hair. “Did you have a bad dream again? Gracie…”

Grace sucks in a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry, Barry. I’m sorry I’m like this. I...I don’t know what’s wrong and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“No, sweetie, I’m not worried about that,” Barry soothes, drying away tears from Grace’s face. “None of us are worried about that. You had a lot of bad things happen to you, and we think that you’re just starting to really deal with the trauma.”

Grace releases a sob. “I don’t want be like this! I hate feeling like this.”

Barry shushes her through tears of his own. “I know you hate it. Right now you need friends and all the support you can get. That’s why we want you to meet Ian and Mary.”

“I just want to feel better.” Grace looks up at Barry with exhausted eyes. She’s tired of all the anger and the drowning sorrow and the pain that accompanies her anxiety and worry.

“We’re going to help you feel better,” Barry promises, stooping down to press a kiss against Grace’s head. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against Grace’s and their tears mingle together, both of them sharing the same breath. “I love you, Gracie. I love you so much.”

They stay like this a while, and Grace lets Barry’s closeness calm her. When he pulls away, her breathing is calm and her tears have stopped. Barry smiles gently down at her, offering his hand. “C’mon, Grace. Let’s go make something for lunch.”

Grace obediently takes his hand, letting him pull her from bed and they walk together to the kitchen.

…

 

“ _He_ - _Hey_! _Get_ _out_ _of_ _those_ , _you_ _idiot_! _Those_ _aren’t_ _yours_!”

Grace frowns from her place on the couch, turning her head towards the hallway where the booming voice just came from. She knew it wasn’t uncommon for the alters to have conversations with one another, but this sounded a little bit different. They’re having an argument.

The voice changes this time from what Grace managed to hear. The voice is light and feminine, with a strong Irish accent to boot. “ _They’re_ _women’s_ _underwear_! _Who_ _else_ _are_ _they_ _gonna_ _be_ _for_?”

“ _I’ll_ _be_ _damned_ _if_ _you_ _put_ _those_ _things_ _on_ _our_ _body_ , _Mary_.” Grace can’t help but smile a little when she remembers Mary and Ian, and she chuckles at their exchange. She and her younger siblings really never got to joke around like this, their house void of laughter and joy because of their father.

Mary makes a sound. “ _Don’t_ _say_ ‘ _damned_ ,’ _Ian_! _You_ _have_ _a_ _bunch_ _of_ _stuff_ _to_ _make_ _up_ _for_ _when_ _we_ _go_ _to_ confession!”

“ _Then_ _you_ _don’t_ _say_ _it_ , _Mary_!”

“ _We’re_ _supposed_ _to_ _be_ _here_ _for_ _Grace_! You _wanted_ _to_ _meet_ _her_ , too,” Mary snaps.

“ _Then_ _quit_ _siphoning_ _through_ _her_ _panties_!”

Grace pulls her sore body off the couch. It hurts from where she’s been laying down all the time and she knows she needs to get up and move more. She walks down the long hallway and into Patricia’s room where she heard the twins, looking in at them and to see her clothing strung out all over the room because of Mary.

Then, there’s a noise and blue eyes snap towards the door. “Mary, she’s right there! She’s going to be pissed because you’re looking through her clothes!”

“Oh, shut up, Ian. Let me talk to her.”

The door opens wider and Grace can only blink up at the alter that stares at her. “So...like, how much of that did you hear?”

Grace smiles sheepishly. “All of it?”

“I didn’t know they were yours- honest! I’m a girl, and don’t get very many nice things, so I was just browsing.”

Ian takes over, rolling his eyes. “Mary’s full of it. But it’s nice meeting you- I’m Ian, and I’m twelve minutes older than Mary.”

“Stop taking the Light, you nimrod! Don’t listen to Ian- I’m the oldest. He just tells people that. I mean, what does twelve minutes make? It doesn’t make him any smarter, that’s for sure.” Mary pinches the bridge of her nose and Grace laughs a little at the girl’s exasperation with her twin. “Anyhow, I’m Mary and by far the most intelligent twin…”

“God doesn’t like lies, Mary!” Ian cuts Mary off with an evil smirk, and Grace roars with laughter.

“Ian, _stop_ _it!_ ”

…

The rest of the day is spent getting to know the two new alters. Grace would be lying if she said she didn’t love it, too.

She quickly learns the twins’ attitudes and can tell them apart pretty easily. It amazes Grace how all the personalizes have different facial expressions and personalities and their voices, too. Mary and Ian have similar facial expressions from being siblings, but hardly match any other way. Mary doesn’t match Ian, and Ian is different from her, just like Barry and Dennis and Hedwig and Patricia don’t make the same faces.

She learns they are her age- nineteen. Ian keeps on insisting they’re twenty, but Mary tells Grace not to mind him. They tell Grace they were made from Kevin’s need of having a friend- a sibling- so he didn’t feel alone, so Mary and Ian were made to fill up that void. Often times both simultaneously share the Light, switching back and forth constantly- or stealing it from the other to make the other twin mad.

“We went to a Catholic school.”

“Mary, we did not! Just because Kevin’s brute of a mother made him take some Bible courses doesn’t mean anything!” Ian exclaims, standing at the stove while he stirs a pot of soup, glaring at his sister. Then, he turns and looks to Grace and offers a soft smile. “We are, however, Catholic.”

Grace offers a lopsided smile. “I’m Methodist if that means anything.”

Mary makes a sound. “Should we witness to her?”

“She believes in God. It’s all that matters,” Ian says, pinching the bridge of his nose and Grace snickers, sitting back in her chair.

Dinner is finished sometime later, and Ian slips her a bowl onto the table and gives her a stern look. “Barry said you’ve been skipping meals and stuff. Make sure you eat, alright?”

Grace nods. “I will.”

“Ian, scolding her like a toddler won’t help. It’s okay to be sad. Besides, Kevin’s childhood sound like a walk in the park compared to what Barry told us about Grace. I mean...whose father…”

“Mary! Would you shut up?” Ian nearly roars. Then, he looks to Grace who has shrunk into her seat. She feels her heart hammer in her chest and all she can worry about is what they must think of her. Ian kneels before her, capturing Grace’s chin between his thumb and index finger. “Grace, look at me. We’re not here to make you feel judged, and we won’t ask anything unless you’re comfortable with telling.”

Grace gives him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Ian.”

“Anytime. Now, eat something,” Ian instructs softly, taking a seat at the table opposite of Grace. She manages to eat most of her soup and Ian offers her more, but Grace refuses, content to simply talk to Ian and sip at her water.

After dinner, the group moves into the living room where they watch a scary movie. Ian blatantly refused to watch their movie of choice- The Bye Bye Man- and chose to hide away from the Light while Mary and Grace watched.

Mary nudges Grace in the middle of the movie. “Ian likes you. Like, a lot. He’s just being a pansy right now.”

Grace chuckles. “I don’t blame him. This movie’s pretty creepy.”

There’s a small silence and Mary looks at Grace with a sad smile. “We love you, Grace. Every last one of us. We don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“That’s a first,” Grace says softly. “I’ve never had anyone love me like you all do. It’s scary how fast everything changed.”

Mary gives her a look. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that. Kevin’s mom wasn’t a good woman, but I’d rather suffer her than go through what you did.” Then, she feels Mary take her hand, and the girl squeezes her hand. “Ian and I are here for you, Grace.”

“Thank you, Mary,” Grace says, letting Mary draw her in for a hug and she holds onto her for a while, glad to be held close by someone who understands her and actually wants her around.

“Don’t mention it,” Mary hums happily. “Now, let's watch this movie so we can torment Ian about it later.”

They sit in silence, jumping at the scarier parts of the movie and giggling wildly before both girls finally sprawl out across the couch, dozing off as the credits roll.

…

A week passes without any real signs of Grace’s anxiety and depression.

She thinks that maybe her time with the twins is doing her some good. Between her time with Mary and Ian, Barry, Patricia, and Hedwig, she doesn’t have time to be sad and she doesn’t really think about her anxiety. She still has nightmares, but outside of that, she really doesn’t have anymore symptoms.

One day, though, everything comes crashing down.

Her morning starts off okay. She stands in the kitchen with Ian, helping him cook a breakfast of Potatoes O’Brien that he insists is good, and there is bread baking in the oven. She stands next to him, frying sausage and eggs and she laughs softly as he tells jokes.

Then, the fear sets in and she doesn’t know where it comes from. It settles over her like a dark veil, and Grace feels tremors race up her spine and all through her body. It makes her chest constrict and her visions begins to become fuzzy and her legs tremble. She shakes all over and she moves away from the stove, clutching the counter as she begins to shake.

“Grace? Grace, what’s wrong?” Ian’s heavy accent fills the air, and Grace feels him reach out to touch her. His arms are suddenly around her, hauling her to a chair at the kitchen table. “Grace, look at me. Hey, you got to breathe for me. Grace!”

All she can hear is screaming. She can’t make any sense of it, but it sounds like her father and it frightens her even more. Her lungs feel cut off and it’s like someone is choking her and she’s cold, her body shaking. Someone is holding her, pressing her against their chest and all she can hear someone telling her to breathe. She hears the alters yelling back and forth to each other, someone screaming to get Barry and other alters are pushed into the Light out of concern and fear

For a few minutes, she’s in the dark and she’s alone. She feels like she’s dying due to the crushing weight on her chest and all she can do is gasp. _Ican’tbreathe_.  _PleasehelpmeIcan’tbreatheandhe’sgonnagetme_. Then, there’s a bright promise of love and light when someone breaks through the screaming in her head and she hears Barry’s voice, his body rocking with Grace and all she can do is gasp for breath, her vision clearing and she can see him staring down at her with wide, terrified eyes.

“Grace, you gotta breathe for me. I know it’s hard, but I need one good, deep breath,” Barry pleads, shushing Grace through her sobs and he strokes her hair. “It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.”

“ _Barry_ …”

“I know, babygirl. I’m right here,” Barry says gently, kissing Grace’s head. “Breathe with me. One deep breath through your nose and breathe it out of your mouth.”

She lets herself copy Barry’s deep breaths, curling closer to the man. After a few sputtering breaths, Grace’s ragged breathing slows and she stares up at Barry who bends to kiss her forehead. “There we go, baby. I’ve got you. Listen, sweetie- I’m going to make a quick phone call. Do you care?”

Grace shakes her head and she feels Barry fish his phone out of his pocket. She watches as he quickly dials a number, lifting the phone to his ear and he quickly kisses her forehead and between her eyes, muttering something as the phone rings.

“H-Hello? Hi, Dr. Fletcher, it’s Barry,” Barry breathes heavily. “No. I’m fine. We’re fine. Y-You’re taking new patients without DID, right? Great. It’s my friend, and she’s been real bad the last month.”

Grace frowns, listening as Barry struggles to speak over his clumsy words. “She’s having panic attacks and...and flashbacks? She’s just real jittery and she’s so sad all the time. Uh-umm...she was in the kitchen with Ian and they were cooking, and he said she just panicked. By the time they got me she was in the floor, and her lips were blue.” Barry releases a shuddering sob, hugging Grace close and he kisses her hair, rocking her as she shakes. “She’s so scared, Dr. Fletcher, and we don’t know what to do.”

“Oh...okay. I can have her there any time, Dr. Fletcher,” Barry says. “Eleven? Perfect- I’ll see you there.” Barry mumbles a goodbye and hangs up, looking down go Grace. He offers a shaky smile and strokes her hair. “It’s going to be okay, baby. I know I didn’t give you any choice, but are you okay with seeing Dr. Fletcher? She’s a good woman and she can help you.”

Grace nods. “I just want it to stop.”

“It will,” Barry soothes. “Let’s go get ready, Grace. We can get the kitchen cleaned up later and we can stop for breakfast somewhere in town if you’re up to it.”

“Okay,” she says, letting Barry help her to her feet and he takes her back to get ready for the hastily made therapist appointment.

...

Grace feels like she’ll have another panic attack.

She sits in a black, leather chair with Dr. Fletcher sitting on the other side of her. The woman is older with smooth white hair and a kind smile. She studies Grace over with careful eyes, twirling her black, ballpoint pen with her fingers and Grace feels sick with the way Dr. Fletcher seems to be picking her apart.

“How did you become friends with all of the personalities?” Dr. Fletcher asks, offering Grace a small smile.

Grace shrugs. “They kind of took me in. Umm…I’m not really friends with all of them, either.” Grace doesn’t tell the truth of what happened, knowing that everyone will be taken away from her and she doesn’t think she could live with losing them. “I don’t get along with Dennis.”

“Why don’t you get along with Dennis, Grace?”

“He tried to take my clothes. He scares me,” Grace answers. She associates Dennis with her father- malicious and evil…

Dr. Fletcher only nods. “What about the others? You get along with them well?”

Grace smiles softly. “Y-Yeah. Miss Patricia is one of the first ones I met, and she’s like my mom. We cook together a lot and she likes to braid my hair. Then...there’s Hedwig. He reminds me of my brothers and he spends a lot of time with me. Barry is my best friend...he makes me feel safe. He stays with me when I’m scared and makes sure I’m taking care of myself. Last week I met Mary and Ian- they’re the twins and they’re my age. They say Ian is struck on me and I’m really close with Mary.”

Dr. Fletcher hums. “I’m glad to see someone make so much progress with Kevin and his personalities. Usually they are so closed off from everyone.” Grace watches warily as the woman moves around in her chair, pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. “But we are here for you, Grace, and I’d like to know about you. Would you tell me a little about where you came from.”

Grace tenses, her mind racing. “I...I was born here in Philadelphia. I lived out in the country, and I grew up with my parents and my three little brothers.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Grace shrugs, unable to talk lest her voice betray her again and she goes into hysterics. She doesn’t want to talk about this, but she knows that she needs to because the longer she keeps it bottled up, it’s going to destroy her. She’s going to keep hurting Barry, Patricia, Hedwig, Ian, and Mary, and she doesn’t want that for them because she loves them.

Then, Grace hurriedly wipes her tears away and tries to breathe. She feels the darkness coming back to settle over her and she feels sick. “M-My mom didn’t have a lot to do with me. It was like she held herself at arm’s distance, and I didn’t know what was wrong with me. She always kept the little kids busy and away from the house and left me with my father.”

“What about your father?” Dr. Fletcher asks worriedly, her brow furrowing slightly.

Grace takes in a long, shuddering breath. “He’s...not a good man. He screamed at my mother and hit her. He didn’t do a lot to the little kids. I...I think he might have hit them a few times. He drank a lot and had a nasty temper.”

Dr. Fletcher gives her a sad look. Grace can see by the look that she knows. She knows what happened to Grace, but Grace knows that she’ll have to admit what happened. “Will you tell me what he did to you, Grace?”

“He...He touched me,” Grace rasps. She releases a shuddering sob and tries to call her breathing, her body shaking in terror. “It got worse as I got older. Once I reached adolescence...he would take me into the bedroom and…”

At this point she can’t continue. She feels sick and her body is shaking hard, and she feels like she can’t breathe. “C-Can I get up and walk? I feel sick.”

Dr. Fletcher nods, standing up along with Grace. She opens the door for Grace and she immediately scrambles out into the hallway where she immediately starts towards who she believes to be Ian sitting in one of the chairs.

“Grace?” His Irish accent fills the air and he stands, arms stretching out to hold her. Grace rushes to him, wrapping her wiry arms around him and she sobs silently into his chest. “Shh...Grace, shh. _Mo_ _grá_ …”

He lays his cheek on her hair, lightly rocking their bodies. “Grace, do you want me to get Barry?”

“No,” Grace hiccups, her body shaking. “Give me a second. I promise I’ll be okay.”

Ian nods gently. “Take as long as you need. I’m here.” He holds Grace close, rocking their bodies softly and he kisses her forehead, mumbling softly in English and Irish.

It takes a few minutes for Grace to calm down enough to be able to speak again. She steps back from Ian and he cups her face in his hands, offering a small smile. “Are you okay, Grace?”

Grace offers a shaky smile. “I’m fine.”

Ian only nods, pressing a final kiss on Grace’s head before Mary makes an appearance. “Alright, you- stop charming my brother. Let’s get this doctor’s appointment done so we can go home and watch scary movies.”

Grace laughs softly and she lets Mary pull her back into the office with Dr. Fletcher, clutching onto the girl tightly.

…

Grace feels raw by the time they finally get home.

The appointment with Dr. Fletcher left her feeling shaky and exhausted. Her nerves feel like they’ve been rubbed raw and she doesn’t feel good at all. Finally, after nearly an hour and a half, Grace is sent home with Mary clutching her hand and a definite diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

“Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is different for everyone. It can be mild or severe; it can last weeks or months,” Dr. Fletcher had explained. “What we need to focus on is long-term treatment and helping you heal.”

She sent Grace home with prescriptions for Prozac and God knows what else to help with her depression and anxiety. Grace is honestly rather apprehensive to take them, and is even more terrified to see what might happen when she does. Dr. Fletcher had asked for Barry, and told him and all the alters to keep watch for Grace just incase she begins to display suicidal tendencies or she gets any worse.

Now, Grace lays across the couch, her head in Mary’s lap while they watch a movie. She picked out a comedy to make Grace laugh, but all Grace can do is crack a smile while because she’s so exhausted.

“If you’re tired you can go to sleep,” Mary says, threading her fingers through Grace’s hair.

“All I do is sleep,” Grace huffs.

Mary chuckles. “After the day you’ve had, you deserve it.”

“Yeah- sorry about that.” Grace frowns deeply, sighing in irritation. “You all keep seeing the worst of me. One more mess up and you guys are gonna run me off.”

“Sorry to say, Gracie- you’re stuck with us,” Mary laughs, and Grace laughs with her and she finds herself being hugged close to the girl. “All of us are just as messed up as you. We don’t think any less of you, okay?”

Grace nods. “Okay.”

Then, she’s suddenly lifted up by strong arms and she squeaks when she hears Ian’s rumbling laugh. Ian settles her in his lap and Grace relaxes against him, laying her head on his shoulder.

“That’s right- you’re stuck with us,” Ian rumbles happily. Grace chuckles and lets her eyes drift closed as she feels Ian comb his fingers through her hair. “Go to sleep, _mo_ _grá_.”

Grace makes a sound. “What does that mean? _Mo_ _grá_?”

“It means, “ _My_ _love_ ,’ in Irish,” Ian answers, laughing wildly when Grace’s face burns red. She swats him playfully and Ian presses a quick kiss on her forehead.

In truth, Grace loves him, too. She loves all of them.  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was probably my favorite to write yet! I honestly had a lot of fun writing it and getting to make personalities for Mary and Ian since we didn’t see them much or at all in Split and Glass. Anyhow, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and let me know what you think!
> 
> Also: if anyone out there is going through abuse, or if they are suffering through depression and anxiety- there is always help. It’s hard to reach out at first, but there will always be someone to listen. I know this from experience. All it takes is a phone call, or just starting a simple conversation. But there is help, and there is hope. There always is.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that everyone enjoyed this. I definitely plan on posting more and Grace gets to meet a new personality each chapter, so let me know who you want her to meet next! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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